Survivor
by Arasulgil
Summary: Muggle Survival AU for TISWC.


School: Beauxbatons

Year: 5

Theme: Survival Muggles

Main prompt: (negative pairing) Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley

Additional prompt: (quote) "Don't you dare [add any action here]!"

Word count: 1510

* * *

Ginny Weasley tried to keep her nerves under control as her father guided the car into the car park.

When she had first seen the notice in the newspaper, she wondered who would accept such a challenge. It was a page advertising a competition that consisted of people being taken to an area of wilderness. There, using only a map and compass, they had to navigate their way to the final destination. This competition had been held before. She remembered watching it on television with her family on Saturday nights. The thought only made her more nervous: the competitors would be televised.

At first, she had never, ever thought of entering the competition. But they had started advertising the grand prize: 1,000,000 pounds. Her family hadn't been in a great financial situation for some time, and the money could change that forever.

_I really need to win this, _she thought, waving goodbye to her father and walking to the competition building. _That money could buy Mum and Dad a proper house, or at least let them hire someone to replace the leaky roof. There might even be enough left over for me and Ron to go to university. _She half-snorted when she thought of her brother. _Not that he wants to. He's done with learning._

Her mother had been almost hysterical when she said she was entering. "No, Ginny, you're not putting your life at risk for a stupid competition." Then, almost as an afterthought, she'd added, "We'll get along fine without the money."

Any stranger could see through that lie when they walked into their house: the cracked, ancient furniture, the leaking roof, the unpainted walls, the over-cramped bedrooms where four people squeezed into one and one person slept on the living-room couch, her overtired mother who woke up at four and went to sleep at twelve, her father who was forced to work double shifts at his office.

As she tried to argue, her father had interjected, "It's up to her, Molly. She's nineteen, an adult, and can take care of herself." He added softly, looking pained," Besides, we need that money."

Finally, her mother relented, but not without protest. "Why does she have to do it? She's the youngest, our little girl, what if something happens to her? One of the boys could do it instead, couldn't they?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Mum, I want to do this. The boys don't.'

"I'll let you do this, but please take care of yourself. We can get money. We can't get another daughter."

"Okay, Mum. Thank you."

So she'd filled in the entry form and posted it. A week later, she had received a telephone call from the competition organizers, explaining where she was to meet them and what to bring. She'd been terrified, but she knew she was ready.

Today, she was in a helicopter, which was flying her and the other competitors to their surprise location. She used the time to examine the others. There were only three other competitors, and all of them were boys. One was a complete stranger. She remembered seeing another boy at a local marathon. She glanced at the third boy, who was sitting in the seat in front of her, and stifled a groan.

It was _him. _His surname was Potter-she couldn't remember his first name-and he'd been adopted by his rich relatives who spoilt him to bits. He had never been in middle school with her, as he had gone to an expensive private school, while she went to regular public school. However, their town only had one high school, and he'd been in a grade higher than her. He was the school's biggest bully. Everyone other than his cousin and partner-in-crime Dursley had been terrified of him.

_What did I do to deserve this? _she asked herself. Sooner or later, he would recognize her, because she was one of those who had rebelled against his tyranny. She just hoped that, once the competition started, she could get as far away from him as possible.

The helicopter dropped them in an area of forest. They were each given a backpack containing a water bottle, a first-aid kit, a Swiss Army Knife, a matchbox, a map and a compass .Then they were left in a clearing as the helicopter took off.

_Well, good luck to me, _Ginny thought. She took a deep breath and plunged into the underbrush.

_Five hours later_

The sun was setting, and Ginny figured she had better stop for the day. She gathered firewood and lit a fire under a large oak tree. She then foraged for edible plants, silently thanking her mother, who had taught her about the edible varieties of plants from the time she was ten. Hoping the fire would keep any animals away, she ate a few of the herbs, then crouched near the fire and fell asleep.

She was woken in the middle of the night by a low-pitched growl.

She stood up and looked around. Should she stay near the fire and hope that it would protect her, or should she put it out and climb the tree?

She decided to keep the fire burning, but climb the tree. She did not know of any animals that could climb trees, and she could easily climb down if she wanted to. So, gathering her thing, she scrambled up the tree and waited. Within a few minutes, she could see something approaching the tree. As it got closer, she determined it to be a wild boar. She willed her hands to stop shaking, glad she was up the tree. Wild boars, to her knowledge, were dangerous when provoked.

Seeing the fire, it turned and ran in another direction to find prey. Ginny allowed herself a relieved breath before she caught the smell of smoke. Alarmed, she looked at her own campfire, but it was not that; on the contrary, it seemed to be going out. From her vantage point on the tree, she looked around and realized that a wave of fire was burning steadily towards her. In a few moments, her tree would be on fire!

She climbed down as quickly as she could, but halfway down, something caught on a branch. Looking behind, she saw that her sleeve had got snagged on a pointy edge of the branch.

The fire was almost there…only one tree stood between the fire and her.

She had no time to lose. She yanked her arm away from the branch as hard as she could.

Her sleeve tore, freeing her. The tree next to hers burnt down.

She didn't stop to think. She just jumped, then ran as fast as she could in the opposite direction.

Once she was a reasonable distance away, she stopped. Her ankles and knees ached from the impact of jumping.

One thing was clear: she would not get any more sleep tonight.

The next day, she had breakfast and began her journey as soon as the sun rose. She was making good progress, but she still had a large distance to cover. She paused for lunch, and because the afternoon sun was too hot to trek in, she decided to take a quick nap.

When she woke up, everything except her empty water bottle and compass was missing.

She was shocked. She'd only been asleep for a few minutes: half an hour at the most. What could have possibly happened to them?

She glimpsed footprints in the soft mud near her. Not following them would be a foolish thing to do. Climbing a tree, her suspicions were proved correct: Potter stood there, holding her backpack as well as his backpack.

She scowled. She wished she could get it back, but that was too big a risk to take.

Her best hope was to reach the river she'd seen on the map, refill her water supply, and get to the end as fast as possible.

The next day, she managed to get to the river and replenish her water bottle, but she knew she was in for trouble. She had nothing whatsoever to eat, and she still had ten kilometers to go.

She managed to find a few herbs, enough to make do for brunch. However, in the last leg of the final five kilometers, trouble found her.

Potter blocked her way.

"Get away from me,' she said, as coldly as she could muster.

"Not a chance, Weasley," he sneered.

She tried to make a run for it, but he blocked her. He was angry now. "Don't cross me, you worthless little girl," he said. "Hand over the compass and the bottle, then no one will get hurt. I'm sure your family of beggars can't afford a funeral."

"Don't you dare call my family beggars!" she said. Her rage fuelled her, and suddenly she was running at him. He laughed, but she punched him hard in the stomach. He wasn't expecting it, and it was his downfall.

She ran for it. As she crossed the finish line, she knew she deserved it.


End file.
